


A First Time For Everything

by psalter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Community: spnkink_meme, Drug Use, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, M/M, Shotgunning, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-21
Updated: 2013-05-21
Packaged: 2017-12-12 12:24:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/811569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psalter/pseuds/psalter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for this prompt at spnkink_meme:</p><p>"Sam and Dean don't smoke pot very often, but Cas decides to drop in on them at one point when they are. He joins in, but it takes him a little convincing. At first, of course, he's nervous to try marijuana, so Dean tricks him with kissing him and ultimately ends of shotgunning with him. One things leads to another and by the end of the night, Dean has Cas doing whatever he and Sam wants him to do. :)"</p>
            </blockquote>





	A First Time For Everything

Their most recent run lands them with two dead ghouls on a pyre and a quarter baggie lifted from Charlevoix Sheriff Station's evidence locker. Dean shakes the plastic by his head with an enticing grin as they slip into the Impala. At Sam's lack of response, Dean shoves his shoulder and drops the weed into the cupholder before starting up the engine.

"Lighten up, college boy. I bet we don't smoke up anywhere near as much as you did dorm living."  
"I wasn't objecting!"  
"Bitch-face says what?"  
"What?"

* * *

This is how Castiel finds them: they are sitting on the edges of a bed each across from each other, passing a joint hastily rolled from a strip of motel notebook paper and a business card filter. Sam and Dean both look up at the soft sound of wings; they answer the inscrutable narrowing of blue eyes with lazy grins and the smoldering of ash hanging orange between them. "Hey Cas," says Sam, rubbing the back of his hand over one red-rimmed eye. "Hello Sam," Castiel replies before looking over at Dean who stares, half-lidded, back at him, the corners of his lips pulled up. Cas walks over to sit on the bed by him, shoulders stiff next to Dean's comfortable slump with elbows on his knees.

"So what can we do you for, Cas?" Dean asks, his gaze never having left Castiel's trajectory from their doorway to beside him. Cas' eyes dart from Dean to Sam and back as he grasps his hands together.

"It appears neither of you are in a state to discuss any serious matters. I should come back when you are less...indisposed."

He moves to stand only to have Dean grasp his arm and pull him back down.

"No, no," Dean drawls, "that sounds like a terrible idea. Here's a better one: you-" He reaches forward and plucks the joint from where Sam is taking a drag, ignoring the unamused twitch of his eyebrow, "-get indisposed-" He pulls long into his lungs, the tip of the joint an ashy glow in the dim lamplight, "-with us."

He holds out the joint to Cas. Cas' hand twitches as if he had only just stopped it from reaching out to take it unconsciously. He looks at the joint for a long moment, perched between Dean's fingers as it is, before looking down and away into the opposite corner of the ceiling, hands still tucked together. "I- believe it would be inappropriate for me to partake at this moment." Dean raises an eyebrow. "Not even curious?" Sam reaches forward to try and take back the joint, but Dean waves him away dismissively as he waits for Cas to answer. Cas rolls his shoulders in something too inhuman to be a shrug but reminiscent of one, "I haven't given much thought to the matter." Sam tries for the joint again and in the process locks eyes with Dean. The look shared between them, unnoticed by Castiel, suggests a formulating plan. Dean relinquishes the pot, but curiosity keeps Sam from immediately dragging from it, instead letting the smoke curl in a thin line in the space between the three of them. He looks at Dean who looks at Cas as he leans himself back on the bed, propped up on his elbows. There's a flicker in Cas' eyes then, as Dean draws his gaze with his own languid greens, the curve of a smirk.

"You like trying new things, don't you, Cas?"

Castiel inclines his head, considering.

"Some experiences have been enjoyable, yes."  
"Did you like drinking? During- not the stuff after," Dean adds hastily as he sees Cas' brow furrow at the memory of pounding temples and three-quarters of a bottle of ibuprofen.  
"Yes."  
"How about burgers?"  
"That was due to Famine's effect on my vessel and-"  
"Bullshit. Don't think I haven't noticed you sneaking them from time to time."  
"I- yes. They're very good."  
"Alrighty then. What about kissing me?"

If Cas had feathers (visible ones), Dean would call it ruffling the way Cas huffs as if he is offended that Dean would even ask.

"Of course I enjoy kissing you, Dean."  
"Small goals," Dean grins, "come here."

Cas sidles over on the bed to lean over Dean who cards his fingers into his hair and pulls him down to meet his lips, soft and slow, a lazy lion. The only sounds for a moment are the slide of tongue and wet mouth and the crackle of burning paper as Sam, opposite, pulls deep. The quiet breaks as Sam, distracted by the sight of Dean and Cas, drags too long and ends up in a coughing fit even as Dean and Cas move apart, lips parted and spit-slick. Dean's smiles again, eyes flicking between Cas' eyes and mouth for a long moment as Sam's coughs subside, before directing a question at Sam:

"Where was I going with this?"

Sam, eyes watering and face buried in the crook of his arm, gestures with the joint at Cas, who frowns slightly in confusion.

"Right," Dean says and sits back up, Cas moving back to keep their foreheads from colliding. "You liked that?"  
"Very much," Cas replies.  
"How do you think you'd like a round of tonsil hockey with Sam? You haven't done that before, have you?"

Castiel looks over at Sam who is peering at him with hope not entirely masked by his hesitation. It takes only a momentary pause before Sam is swapping the joint for Cas, who comes to stand between Sam's knees. Cas ducks down as Sam tilts his head up to meet him, a dry brush of their lips before Sam is clutching at Cas hungrily to deepen it, and Dean takes a languid drag as Sam and Cas finally break, Cas' bottom lip swollen and pink from where Sam had tugged at it.

Dean keeps his mouth closed as he gestures Cas over again, Sam following to sit on Cas' other side so that the two brothers are bracketing the angel on Dean's bed. Dean pulls Cas in again, parting his lips with his own, and Cas' eyes widen at the sensation of smoke being blown into his mouth, then into his lungs at his surprised intake of breath through his nose. Dean grips Cas' hair tighter, keeping their lips sealed together as he blows the last of the smoke into Cas' mouth. He eases him back then, then watches the soft white whistle of breath ride out on Cas' exhale.

"What-" Cas begins, then is interrupted by Sam turning his head with fingers on his jaw and meeting his lips with his own plume of smoke.  
"How do you like this new experience, Cas?" Dean asks. Cas doesn't answer but neither does he object as Dean takes another drag and pulls Cas towards him again.

They continue like that, alternating smoking with sharing smoke with smokeless kisses, until Cas finds in himself a low-burning buzz and a mind that can't seem to catch on his concerns no matter how he tries. Dean hands him the final stub of the joint then with a grin.

"You're a big boy, you don't need us to do all the work for you."

Cas hesitates for only a fraction of a second before he pulls from the roach, the heat from the tip threatening to burn his fingers, then leans forward to kiss Dean who groans appreciatively. Sam rolls another one, fumbling a bit due to his high, and in between passing that one, it is a natural step to move from sitting to letting heavy limbs sprawl on the bed. The tingling in Cas' fingers picks up on the softness of Dean's flannel shirt, the grain of denim covering Sam's thigh. The sensitivity of touch seems universal as Dean's and Sam's hands travel mutually over Cas' trenchcoated limbs, underneath over suit jacket, underneath again to untuck the white dress shirt, then underneath to skin that jumps and trembles at contact. With a final quiet smack of lips, Dean pulls back to look at Cas, who lies bonelessly against the pillows, now sharing Dean's sleepy, half-lidded look.

Dean meets Sam's eyes in silent agreement. The things they want to do to him-

"How about we-" Dean's hand drifts down the plane of Cas' stomach to dip below his waistband and mold around the jut of hipbone, "-make this a day of new experiences?" Sam's fingers surreptitiously undo the buttons of Cas' shirt one by one as Cas looks first at one brother, then the other, all complacency. "That sounds good," he says, with a small stretch of his mouth that Dean knows is the beginnings of a smile.

Sam responds to the scratch of Cas' voice with sure hands that push all three layers of clothing from Cas' shoulders simultaneously, Cas sitting up from the pillows to let the fabric slip off his body, getting caught up in the shirtcuffs even as Dean catches his mouth. Sam wrenches the clothes from Cas' wrists and pushes him back down again, Dean following as he chases Cas' lips, and Sam's tongue is laving into the hollow of Cas' throat, teeth worrying a bruise into the rise of collarbone and lips mouthing at sternum as answer to the vibrations of a moan rumbling through the angel's chest.

Dean sits back on his heels and drinks in the sight of his brother working Cas over, the flash of teeth scraping over a pert nipple as fingernails drag lightly over the other one, the angel's back bowing so prettily in an arch up off the mattress. He almost regrets the second it takes to pull his t-shirt up over his head, fabric obscuring his view momentarily, but he forgets as soon as he's settling in behind Cas, chest to thinner back and skin on skin. Cas lets out a shuddering breath. His head lolls back onto Dean's shoulder, jerking to tuck a cry into the crook of Dean's neck when Sam bites down on the jut of bone that marks the bottom of his ribcage. Sam's soothing tongue over the mark coincides with Dean's nips at Cas' earlobe, and the contrast of sensation riding the buzz under his skin makes him shiver and rub his thigh up between Sam's legs, responding to the slow grind Sam had kept up the entire time from where he straddled him.

"Jesus, Cas-" Sam hisses, and he's surging up to claim Cas' mouth before the objection to his blasphemy could drop. Dean rubs small circles into Cas' upper arms and drops his lips to the shell of Cas' ear again, proximity pitching his arousal-rough whisper loud enough for both him and Sam to hear:

"Wanna watch you two-"

Sam and Cas break their kiss at those words, a shared sound stuttered into the air at the thought. Dean's eyes dart up to meet Sam's even as he leans in closer to Cas, voice sinuous, sinful.

"I wanna watch Sam take you apart, wanna see you shake into pieces around his cock, Cas, wanna hear you scream both our names when you come-"  
"Yes- Dea- Sa-am--"

At Cas' abortive attempts to frame their names, something snaps in Sam, and he moves back to grasp the waistband of Cas' slacks and yank downwards, pulling Cas' entire body along with them until they end up with Cas' pants hanging off of one ankle, Sam between his knees, Cas' head pillowed on Dean's inner thigh in the cradle of his hips. Dean can see it, the moment the haze clears from Cas' eyes, pupils blown wide enough to nearly hide the sliver of blue running their rims, as Sam swallows him deep. Cas writhes on the bed, arms coming up above his head to grip at Dean's waist. When Sam's throat flutters around the sensitive head of his cock, Cas squeezes his eyes shut and lets a ragged sound be dragged out of him. His hips snap up involuntarily; to his dismay, Sam pulls off with an obscene pop, spit and pre-come leaving a wet trail between slit and Sam's lips. Instead, teasing, Sam hikes one of Cas' legs over his shoulder, turning to nip marks along his inner thigh, breath skirting hot but never touching exactly where Cas wants him to go. Cas compensates by tilting his head up, exposing the long line of pale throat and bobbing Adam's apple, and trailing his lips along the underside of Dean's cock through the denim of his jeans.

Sam hears Dean's sharp intake of breath above, looks up to see him with one hand petting at Cas' hair, the other stretching languid out to the side to retrieve the half-joint still smouldering in the ashtray. "There's lube in my duffel, inside pocket," he directs at Sam, taking a drag and almost choking on the smoke when Cas presses the flat of his tongue against the swell of his zipper.

Sam lets Cas' leg drop to the bed then, taking a moment to look at his handiwork burning pinks and reds on tender skin. The fact that Cas could heal them with a thought but chooses not to alights something in his gut, and he licks his lips, moving to rummage through the bag, never more frustrated at the clutter he finds inside.

"Fuck-" Dean hisses.

Sam turns around to see that Cas had begun sucking in earnest, the denim around his lips dampening and darkening with spit. Dean had shifted onto his knees with hips canted towards Cas' mouth. Sam can barely hear their soft murmurs but can't help but smile and shake his head at what he catches before returning to look for what he knows is a small tube somewhere:

"Don't you wanna turn over, sweetheart? It'd be an easier angle for you to do that."  
"My body doesn't seem to want to move, Dean."

A warm chuckle.

"Okay, baby- fuck, that's good, do that again-"

The bed dips under Sam's weight as he climbs back on. Dean looks up at him, then gently tilts Cas' head back down until he is looking at Sam as well.

"Like I said," Dean rasps, "I'm gonna watch, and I want you watching too."

Cas makes an affirmative sound, and it's all Sam needs to pop the cap off the lube and liberally coat his fingers, Cas spreading his legs wider on the bed to make room for him. Sam rubs a finger lightly against Cas' hole, the slightest bit of pressure. Cas bucks under his hand. "Sam-," and Sam is pushing his finger in to the knuckle without further preamble, feeling velvet heat clench down around the digit and sending the sensation straight to his cock straining painfully hard in his pants. He flexes his finger experimentally, watches Cas' panting take on an edge as he curls it around and thrusts it in, out. Dean has his jeans undone and boxers pushed down; he's squeezing the base of his erection with one hand, the other holding the joint to his lips. Sam takes the opportunity to lean forward to press their mouths together and breathe in Dean's smoke as he simultaneously pushes a second finger into Cas, who arches and fucks himself down onto the digits, unabashed moans.

Sam exhales a white cloud of smoke over Cas and scissors him further open, a curse on his lips as he feels inner walls shudder and give. Cas' neglected cock twitches against his stomach. Sam leans down to lick off the pre-come that beads at the tip and groans when Cas' muscles tighten and clamp down on his fingers even as he's pushing in a third, the angel's mouth hanging slack at the stretch. Sam twists his hand, searching for the right angle, and he knows he's got it when Cas yells and jerks so hard it's all Sam can do to avoid getting kneed in his kidney. He presses at Cas' prostate again just to see him make that expression, that punched out sound and that tensile spine, hands gripping white-knuckled at Dean as if he'll keep him grounded on their plane.

"You're doin' so good, Cas, so good," Dean grits out, hand stroking slick and slow over his shaft.

"Dean, I can't-" Cas moans before Sam's fingers bring his attention back to him again. "Sam, ple- pleeease," he whines, words stretching long into just their sounds, gasping for breath and for the thoughts he can't seem to wrap into words, "I don't understa- just do it now! Please!"

Sam doesn't need any more encouragement after that, and he withdraws his fingers, pulling an anticipatory sound out of Cas, and slicks himself with more lube. He and Dean share a look of appreciation over the wanton creature writhing between them before Sam is hoisting Cas' legs up over his hips and pressing in to a collective moan between the three of them.

Sam is sinking in inch by inch. Cas is having none of that. He wraps his legs tighter around Sam's waist and digs his heels into the small of Sam's back, dragging him quick until Sam is hilted inside that impossibly hot body and Cas is keening.

"Fucking hell, Cas-" Sam groans gutturally, tossing his head back to get sweat-sticking bangs out of his eyes, and gives an experimental twist of his hips. The muscles in Cas' abdomen twitch, then shudder as Dean leans forward to run his hand over them, scratching fingernails over ribs, tweaking a nipple.

"You don't have to go slow, Sam. Cas can take it."

Sam and Dean both take in Cas' flushed cheeks, the hooded blue gaze, hair dampened to pitch against the sheets.

"Hell, I think he wants to take i-"

Sam cuts Dean short by surging forward to claim Cas' mouth, bottom lip between his teeth once and again, hips pulling out and slamming back in to drink in the gasps punched out of Cas' throat. Sam hikes Cas' legs up further until they're hooked over his shoulders and the angel is bent nearly in half, snapping his hips forward, and he can hear the frustrated edge in Cas' voice because the change in position doesn't give him the leverage to push back against Sam's thrusts. Dean is fisting his own cock in tandem with their rhythm, breathing harsh and uneven even as he leans into their space, whispering filth into their ears about how fucking hot they look and some other things besides that Sam can't believe Dean is saying to an angel of the Lord (until he remembers the laughable irony of that thought as he slams forward again, shifting to a different angle and knowing he struck gold the way Cas shouts in pure abandon and clenches in a way that makes Sam see stars).

Sam can tell Cas is getting close the way his voice is pitching higher, cut more sharply and more desperate. He readjusts his grip on Cas' hips so that he's hitting his prostrate with each movement, rhythm stuttering when Cas digs fingernails into his forearm with a deathgrip, and Sam himself is getting that familiar coil of heat low in his gut when he wraps his palm around Cas' cock and strips him as he pounds in and watches those blue eyes roll back into his head.

"Sa-Sam! Harder-"  
"Fuck, Cas, you're so-"

And Sam is slamming in once, twice, and his brain seems to short-circuit when he sees Cas twist in orgasm, jaw dropping open only to be met with Dean who leans down to seal a breath of smoke into that gasping mouth, a scream muffled into lips and working tongue. Cas spills white against Sam's stomach and his own, and the way Cas' body tightens like a vice has Sam tumbling over the edge too, coming into Cas' body with a shout and everything like bright light at the corners.

He comes to to see Dean working himself to completion and Cas spilling out the last of the smoke from his lungs. Dean spills with a harsh sound into his hand, a couple of drops splattering against Cas' cheek. Sam, without thinking, leans forward and licks them off, his cock giving a feeble twitch when both Cas and Dean groan appreciatively. He feels boneless, nothing to do with the high still kicking around in his system, and it's all he can do to pull out and roll over to collapse next to Cas, Dean sliding down on the other side, and the only sound for a long while is their breaths slowing in the sticky heat of the room.

The quiet is broken by Cas, in his typical way, making an observation:

"I very much enjoyed that."

Dean laughs, scrubbing his jaw, and Sam huffs an amused breath into a pillow.

"Yeah, I think we all did," says Dean.

A beat.

"Damn, I could really use a burger."  
"Cheese fries," Sam muffles into the pillow.  
"That...sounds really good," Cas agrees, his expression confused.  
"Munchies," Dean explains, "part of the smoke-n-toke kit-and-caboodle."

There is a pause, an aborted movement on Dean's part, a groan.

"Think you can mojo some up for us, Cas? I don't feel like getting up."

Sam only grunts in agreement. Cas lets out a long-suffering sigh.

"In a minute."


End file.
